


Around We Go Once More

by toggledog



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-20 17:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toggledog/pseuds/toggledog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck in a small university town out of the country with Wilson, House is up to day 104, of a 'groundhog day' style constantly recurring day scenario. Seeing as the day will repeat, he figures it would be safe to try to seduce Wilson; the one he's always been attracted to, but never acted on it, for fear it would 'ruin the friendship'. This is not as easy as he planned, particularly as Wilson refuses to take him seriously.<br/>Set around season 6-7, but epilogue will contain spoilers for the final episode (season 8) and beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is pretty tame but I plan to make it more explicit as it goes along.  
> The song House sings is "Can't Take My Eyes off You", Frankie Vallie and the Four Seasons.  
> Enjoy!

Day 103.

 

To his left, the rustle of sheets signaled Wilson waking.  The loud clang of an alarm clock picked up then hastily dropped, then followed. His friend grumbled an expletive.

 

_You’re awake?_

“You’re awake?” The sound of Wilson hastily unzipping his case reached House’s tympanics.

 

_Why didn’t you wake me! We’re going to be late!_

 

“Why didn’t you wake me? We’re going to be late!” More rustling sounded, as Wilson rummaged through his own clothes.

 

_Oh, don’t mind me! You’re only the head speaker at a lecture planned six months in advance!_

 

“Oh, don’t mind me! You’re only the head speaker at a lecture planned six months in advance!”

_Exasperated sigh._

Wilson let out an exasperated sigh.

 

_Well, I, for one plan on going. I’m sure that watching an empty stage for half an hour will make for one exhilarating time._

 

“Well, I, for one plan on going. I’m sure that watching an empty stage for half an hour will make for one exhilarating time.”

 

He could feel the dark eyes lingering on his back a moment, before the bathroom door slammed. House rolled over, grabbing his vicodin bottle off the nightstand between the two beds. He flicked the lid off and gulped down two pills, frowned, then gulped down two more.

 

_Better._

 

The shower turned on in the other room with a gentle hiss. The alarm clock still flashed 1.14, the time it had evidentially shorted out at, the night before. House watched it flick over to 1.20. A fully dressed Wilson stepped out of the bathroom, tie in hand. He ventured over to the wide mirror overlooking the beds and looped the attire around his neck, under the shirt collar. The lessened throb of his vastus medialis muscle allowed House to sit up.

 

“Red tie today. Brings out the colour of those gorgeous brown eyes. Tell me, Jimmy, are you trying to look pretty for someone?”

 

“Hm… well, considering that you are the only person I currently know in this town…”

 

“Well, then I can only extrapolate from that, that you are trying to look pretty for me.”

 

Wilson threw his hands up into the air. “Halleluiah! He finally notices.”

 

The snarky response did not go unnoticed by House. It had not gone unnoticed the first time he’d tried this particular route, nor the 15 times after that.

 

Wilson finished fixing his tie and turned to face him. “Well, if you do decide to go to the university to do the lecture, in the clothes you wore to bed the night before, I can say it will make quite the impression.”

 

House had heard this particular line 16 times. He had to admit some disappointment that his closest ally was just as unimaginative as all of the other utter dimwits in the town. Though he had to remind himself that Wilson occasionally threw out the odd sentence that completely caught him off guard. On day 77, Wilson had been particularly memorable, throwing out three off the cuff remarks throughout the day, that he had not said previously, despite being in the exact same setting, at the exact same time.

 

“I want you to humour me a moment.”

 

_I always humour you. It’s the backbone of our relationship._

 

“I always humour you. It’s the backbone of our relationship.”

 

“Tell me what happened last night.”

 

Bemused expression. “Do you really think that a room full of doctors would not instantly see through feigned amnesia?”

 

“Just… answer me…”

 

“Will you actually get changed and go to this lecture if I answer?”

 

 _No._ “Sure.”

As Wilson began to talk, House noted, with some interest, the differing inflections he would give some words, the added emphasis he would give others. The words, themselves, however, were always the same.

 

_Six times now._

 

“Well, we finally arrived at Dunedin Airport at around six o’clock. I wanted to grab something to eat. You were desperate to get to the hotel, first. You do remember where we are, right? A little university town in the southwest of New Zealand? Or has this conveniently slipped your mind too?” He paused. House didn’t react, so he went on. He continued to talk, always the same sentences, no matter how House reacted to the question. Finally, in desperation the day before, House had responded by asking for detail about those ‘homosexual college experiences you always seem so shy in talking about’. Wilson had shot him a slightly bemused, mainly aggrieved look, before continuing on.

 

“We arrived at the hotel around seven thirty, to discover that they’d made a mistake with the booking and had only given us one room, the last available. Both of us were too fatigued, at that point, to argue it so decided just to sort it in the morning. We then went into the room, where you took a shower and used all the hot water up. We ordered a pizza… using my credit card-”

 

House had started to fidget, drumming his fingers along his thighs, about halfway through Wilson’s speech.

 

“Interesting phenomenon… sexual attraction…” He began.

 

“What? Why are you even…? Actually why am I standing arguing with you? If we leave now I can at least get my morning coffee and not murder you before we even reach the university!”

 

“The reticular activation system is activated in the brain, releasing serotonin, dopamine and epinephrine. The sympathetic nervous system kicks in. The heart rate rises, the pupils dilate, the body is flooded with feel good chemicals.”

 

A slightly puzzled, still bemused, more irritated look past over Wilson’s usually genial face.  “Is this going to be your speech? Well, _interesting_ change from the one you were _told_ to do, about advancements in theoretical medicine.”

 

“That ol’ RAS kicked in really good, the first time I saw those pretty puppy dog eyes.”

 

Wilson stepped to the edge of the bed, threw House’s case on top and started unzipping it.

 

“If you’re trying to come out to me, there’s no need. I just always assumed you were gay. What, with all the _women_ you have slept with, over the years I’ve known you.”

 

He flung it open, pulling out a bunch of clothes, then threw a pair of boxers, two shirts, three socks and two pairs of pants at his friend.

 

“Oh no, not gay, not even bisexual.” House didn’t even bother to catch them. Most landed in a heap around him. One well-aimed sock hit him in the chin. “On a Kinsey scale, I’d probably sit about a 2. In fact, I can only think of three times in life I’ve been attracted to a man. Ben Cornfield in high school. Captain of the football team. Yes, I realise I was being dreadfully, pathetically cliqued there. Ross Jones… oh, did I never tell you I had a college fling too? Well, I would say Chase, but he is just so irritating. It sort of spoils the whole pretty thing, when he constantly walks around looking like someone has shot his grandmother. And then made him eat her.”

 

“Charming.” Beat. “So you’re saying _I’m_ the third one? It’s way too early in the morning to be dealing with… whatever you’re doing. I _really_ need a coffee.”

 

“Why not? Why can’t you be the third one?”

 

“Right… so for the past ten years, you’ve been secretly crushing on your best friend. Despite going through countless women… and showing _no sign whatsoever_ of being in any way interested in men.”

 

“Maybe I figured that you weren’t exactly into the exclusive Y chromosome, so gave up. And you really think I have shown no sign whatsoever of being interested in you?”

 

“I really think I need a coffee. Get dressed. I’ll see you at the lecture.”

 

###

 

Day 104

 

“Red tie today. Brings out the colour of those gorgeous brown eyes. Tell me, Jimmy, are you trying to look pretty for someone?”

 

“Considering that you are the only person I currently know in this town…”

 

“Oh I know a lot of people in this town. And most of them are so painfully _boring_. I was expecting some great Miss Marple style ‘the distraught mistress of the local minister did the murder after shooting her best friends dog’ gossip, but there’s nothing!”

 

Wilson finished fixing his tie and turned to face him. “Well, if you do decide to go to the university to do the lecture, in the clothes you wore to bed the night before, I can say it will make quite the impression.”

 

“I’m not going. I only went the first three days. Well, that was _after_ days one, two and three. So that would be days four, five and six.”

 

He didn’t add that the first three days involved three separate visits to the local hospital, forcing them to examine him using every diagnostic technique available, to figure out what, neurologically, was wrong with him. After three days of the same doctors, arguing with him in exactly the same way, he decided to give up, and at least enjoy himself.

 

“What? Why are you even…? Actually why am I standing having this inane conversation with you? If we leave now I can at least get my morning coffee and not murder you before we even reach the university!”

 

In the past 104 days, he’d learnt a lot about his best friend. One of the most interesting, was that he could act in the most inappropriate manner, and Wilson would simply take it in his stride. Seven times, he’d actually walked in on House and a prostitute, in the hotel room. Twice, with House and two prostitutes. Two of those times, the prostitute was a man. Wilson had simply shut the door, and allowed House to continue with whatever inventive form of sexual hijinks he had put his mind to, that day.

 

The only times he did show true concern, was when House somehow convinced him that he was repeating the same day over and over. Wilson certainly didn’t believe him. But he did believe that House believed it, and thus had been overcome with something acutely psychological. House didn’t entirely disagree with that diagnosis.

 

“How about we just stay in?”

 

“Yes, great idea! We traveled half way around the world, to _not_ do the speech that is the entire reason for us being here!”

 

“Well, there are other things we could do. It really didn’t take me that long to be bored with picking up women and hiring hookers.”

 

 _That long_ was from day 10 to day 55. From day 55 to day 90, he started sampling men, with the odd woman thrown in. Even that started to get rather dull, after a while. Particularly as he started to get more and more aware that none of these people were the one he always woke up to, every morning. The one he was being forced to admit, as the same day passed again and again, that he was frustratingly attracted to.

 

“You’re saying you want to hire hookers together? Ah… I’ll pass. But thanks for the offer.” The sarcasm on the last sentence was quite clear.

 

“I was hoping maybe you and I could have sex.”

 

Wilson stepped to the edge of the bed, threw House’s cause on top and started unzipping it.

 

“If you’re trying to come out to me, there’s no need. I just always assumed you were gay. What, with all the _women_ you have slept with, over the years I’ve known you.”

 

He flung it open, pulling out a bunch of clothes, then threw a pair of boxers, two shirts, three socks and two pairs of pants at his friend.

 

“You’re saying you’ve never thought of it?”

 

“Most heterosexual best friends generally don’t think about sleeping together. Sorry to break it to you.”

 

“But you’re not entirely heterosexual, are you?”

 

A slight blush graced Wilson’s cheeks. “A lot of people experiment in college.”

 

“Then there was Amber. In other words, me. Just without the Y chromosome.”

 

“I really think I need a coffee. Get dressed. I’ll see you at the lecture.”

 

###

 

Day 105

 

To his left, the rustle of sheets signaled Wilson waking.  The loud clang of an alarm clock picked up then hastily dropped, then followed. His friend grumbled an expletive.

 

_You’re awake?_

“You’re awake?” The sound of Wilson hastily unzipping his case reached House’s tympanics.

 

_Why didn’t you wake me! We’re going to be late!_

 

“Why didn’t you wake me! We’re going to be late!” More rustling sounded, as Wilson rummaged through his own clothes.

 

_Oh, don’t mind me! You’re only the head speaker at a lecture planned six months  in advance!_

 

“Oh, don’t mind me! You’re only the head speaker at a lecture planned six months in advance!”

_Exasperated sigh._

Wilson let out an exasperated sigh.

 

_Well, I, for one plan on going. I’m sure watching the empty stage for half an hour will make for one exhilarating time._

“Well, I, for one plan on going. I’m sure that watching an empty stage for half an hour will make for one exhilarating time.”

 

He could feel the dark eyes lingering on his back a moment, before the bathroom door slammed. House rolled over, grabbing his vicodin bottle off the nightstand between the two beds. He flicked the lid off and gulped down two pills, frowned, then gulped down two more.

 

Glancing at the clock, he dressed himself as fast as he could.

 

###

 

“And so I introduce Doctor Gregory House.”

 

Polite applause rang through auditorium. House smiled at the rather immodestly dressed lecturer and stepped up to the lecturn, his cane tapping on the wooden floorboards. He looked about the very young looking students in attendance and spied one that looked rather out of place. Wilson sat in the front row, between a bored looking gothic boy, and a pretty brunette, who tapped on her mobile phone with such fanaticism, it was as though stopping would cause her to go into cardiac arrest.

 

House cleared his throat and smiled at all of the not-particularly eager faces before him.

 

“I’m here to fill your already overstuffed little minds with garbage about the advancement of medical procedures, in the past few years.”

 

A shocked silence filled the audience. Wilson rested his forehead on his hand.

 

“I thought I’d start by singing a song. This is dedicated to the man in the front row, my colleague Jimmy Wilson.”

 

Wilson looked up and gave House a look that told him exactly what internal organ he’d be force-feeding him, once the humiliation was over.

 

“You’re just too good to be true…” House began. “Can’t take my eyes off you.”

 

Right up until the chorus, he was aware he had the entire room’s full attention. Even mobile-obsessed girl had flicked the receiver shut, to stare at him. He felt rather impressed with himself, considering that it was possibly the only time that any one had ever fully engaged a room full of students.

 

“Everybody  DA DA DA DA DA DADA DA!”

 

As with all singalongs, it started small, a few students at first, then built, then more grew bold to join in, until finally the entire auditorium was singing along with him.

 

“I LOVE YOU BABY AND IF THAT’S QUITE ALRIGHT I LOVE YOU BABY TO FILL THE LONELY NIGHT I LOVE YOU BABY. TRUST IN ME WHEN I SAY!” The entire auditorium sang.

  
”That’s beautiful. Everyone…”

 

For his part, Wilson sat ramrod straight in his chair, smiling and laughing along with everyone else. For a moment he caught eyes with House. It was clear, despite the clear frozen, obligatory upturn of lips, that he was not impressed by the performance.

 

“OH PRETTY BABY.”  The audience sang. “DON’T BRING ME DOWN I PRAY OH PRETTY BABY. NOW THAT I’VE FOUND YOU STAY AND LET ME LOVE YOU BABY LET ME LOVE YOU!”

 

The song ended and the entire audience erupted into applause and cheers.

 

“Thank you! You’ve been marvelous!”

 

He stepped off stage. The lecturer who had introduced him moved to him, mouth agape.

 

“Thanks for inviting me.”

 

###

 

 

He was half way down the outside corridor, when he heard familiar footsteps rushing towards him.

 

“What the hell was that all about?”

 

House turned and shrugged. “I just wanted to tell you how I feel.”

 

Wilson simply stared at him a moment, eyes blazing. House felt his heart start to inexplicably pound. This wasn’t his usual secretly-bemused-by-his-antics best friend. This was quite clearly humiliated and pissed off Wilson, who was about to give him a great scolding.

 

He won’t remember tomorrow, House told himself.

 

“I’m not going to get into the fact that you humiliated me in front of an entire room of students. For no reason whatsoever! Oh except to feed your ego, I guess. But you completely disregarded the importance of the speech you were about to make. This university-“

 

“Oh forget about the university!”

 

“Forget about the university? Do you have any concept-? Let me refresh you on a few things. I got you this lecture, remember? The hospital was about to fire you. And with good reason. But I told them you’d be a good boy and do this one thing for them, to prove your loyalty.”

 

Oh… House felt something within himself deflate. In all of the 105 days, he’d somehow forgotten that fact.

 

“And now, not only have you made yourself look bad. But you’ve also damaged my reputation with the hospital.”

 

The wooden doors to the entrance of the lecture halls opened, the clatter of feet and upturned desks signaling that the students would be exiting the room within the next few seconds.

 

“I vouched for you. And this is how you paid me back. You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

 

Dozens of footsteps, started down the hall. Wilson shook his head and moved away from House, who stood and watched him go, ignoring the unapologetic amusement of the students.

 

He told himself he wouldn’t do it again. Surely. He wasn’t that much of a jerk, right?  
  


###

Day 106

 

“OH PRETTY BABY.”  The audience sang. “DON’T BRING ME DOWN I PRAY OH PRETTY BABY. NOW THAT I’VE FOUND YOU STAY AND LET ME LOVE YOU BABY LET ME LOVE YOU!”

 

The song ended and the entire audience erupted into applause and cheers.

 

“Thank you! You’ve been marvelous!” He waited until the noise had died down.  “Now… lecture….”

 

###

 

He was half way down the outside corridor, when he heard familiar footsteps rushing towards him.

 

“Well, that was… what was that song in the beginning about?” Wilson today looked rather amused. “Humiliating me for forcing you to do this, to begin with?”

 

“I just wanted to tell you how I felt about you.” He grinned.

 

“If you’re trying to come out to me, there’s no need. I just always assumed you were gay. What, with all the _women_ you have slept with, over the years I’ve known you.”

 

House was suddenly aware of the feeling of barbed wire digging deep into the nerves of his thigh. He reached into his pocket for his vicodin, popped the lid and swallowed two.

 

“I actually think my attraction has been pretty obvious, over the years.”

 

“Right… so for the past ten years, you’ve been secretly crushing on your best friend. Despite going through countless women… and showing _no sign whatsoever_ of being in any way interested in men.”

 

“Oh knock it off!”

 

Wilson blinked, clearly not expecting that reaction.

 

The wooden doors to the entrance of the lecture halls opened, the clatter of feet and upturned desks signaling that the students would be exiting the room within the next few seconds.

 

“Say something different! Anything different.”

 

“Fine! You’re not in love with me. You’re just trying to humiliate me.”

 

Dozens of footsteps, started down the hall. Wilson shook his head and moved away from House, who stood and watched him go, ignoring the unapologetic amusement of the students watching.

 

“Just keep convincing yourself of that, Jimmy!” He called out after him.

 

###

 

Day 107

 

“I just wanted to tell you how I felt about you.”

 

“If you’re trying to come out to me, there’s no need. I just always assumed you were gay. What, with all the _women_ you have slept with, over the years I’ve known you.”

 

House was suddenly aware of the feeling of barbed wire digging deep into the nerves of his thigh. He reached into his pocket for his vicodin, popped the lid and swallowed two.

 

“The students are about to come out. Let’s not embarrass ourselves in front of them.”

 

“Like you care.” Wilson grumbled, but allowed House to lead him further away from the lecture hallway entrance, never the less.

 

Fallen autumn leaves dappled the green of the university lawn with various hues of red, yellow and orange. Only a few students milled about, walking briskly to the lectures that they were clearly late for. House kicked a few of the leaves about. It didn’t really matter what he said to convince him how he felt. Wilson always reacted in the same way. Complete disbelief.

 

Hell, he wasn’t even sure anymore why he was so desperate to get his best friend into the sack with him. It had started with the idea that perhaps if he did, then this ridiculous streak of same-days would finally stop. That was soon overridden by the better idea that he had always been somewhat attracted to his friend… ok, more than somewhat attracted but had given up a long time before on anything happening, reasoning that the friendship was preferable to having a fling, then seeing the only good relationship in his life crumbling.

 

But then, it didn’t matter anymore. They could kill each other and all that would happen was the day would simply repeat over. House had already experimented with the grim reaper, himself. On day 88 House had gone to the shower with the hotel room iron. He discovered that day that there was no afterlife. To be certain, he did it again on day 89. He woke up, as usual on day 90, with Wilson chiding him for not waking him up.

 

“What would you do if you only had today?”

 

“You mean, if I was going to die tomorrow? I don’t know, the usual, I guess. Say goodbye to all my loved ones, have lots of sex, go to some far out place. Somewhere I’d never been before.”

 

House looked up to the sky. It was already darkening. Within a few hours, the freak storm would start.

 

“What if you weren’t allowed to leave the place you’re in, even if you wanted to?”

 

 A rueful smile crossed his lips. “Are you saying we’re stuck here? As in forever?”

 

“How would you respond, if I told you that I’ve always been rather attracted to you?”

 

_What can I say? I’m a very good-looking guy. You must be really sexually frustrated if you’re now looking at me!_

 

“What can I say? I’m a very good-looking guy. You must be really sexually frustrated if you’re now looking at me!”

 

“Must be true, huh?” House decided to give up on seducing his friend for now. He’d try again tomorrow.

 

###

Day 108

 

Tbc…

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who are reading, particularly those who have left kudos and reviews! Hope you enjoy this one. This chapter is particularly smutty. ;)

“Here’s to us, my good friend!”

 

House raised his glass of whiskey and clanked it against Wilson’s.

 

“You’re almost a little _too_ happy about giving the lecture. Makes me a little suspicious.” Wilson frowned.

 

“Really?” This was House’s third glass. He was feeling pleasantly buzzed. Wilson, on the other hand, had been nursing his first for the last half an hour.

 

_Such the buzzkill!_

 

“Well, it’s never too late to appreciate the wonder that is the developing student mind.”

 

No, he couldn’t say that with any level of honesty.

 

“Do you have a share in this bistro or something?” Wilson asked, watching the other man drain the rest of his glass.

 

“No, my share is in ‘Pugg Mahones’ across the road. My money is always on the bar that has a secretly crude name.” He signaled for (according to his nametag, anyway) Tony the waiter to come over. “Another whiskey.”

 

Waiter Tony’s face was blank, as he nodded, though House could read slight disgust beneath the stoic expression.

 

“Make it two!” He called after Waiter Tony’s fleeing back, before turning back to his friend, who regarded him with the usual somewhat pained, somewhat amused expression that House coveted so much.

 

“You know, the speech wasn’t that good. You really don’t need to celebrate this hard.”

 

“It was a brilliant speech! Did you like the song?”

 

“Yes, I loved being utterly humiliated in a lecture theatre of two hundred,” Wilson paused. “By the way, you didn’t need to order two. I’m not going to be drinking any more.”

 

“The second one is for me.”

 

“Of course it is.”

 

House regarded him a moment. _What the hell?_ He decided to ask the question, even though he already knew, word for word, the answer.

 

Maybe today would be different.

 

“Tell me, Wilson, do you like your job?”

 

Wilson looked surprised. “My job is one of the few things in life that I do love, you know that. Everything else just… always goes to shit. Probably even will with you, eventually.”

 

Today wasn’t different.

 

“I hope not.” House admitted. “But then, considering the way I am… You always forgive me. But then, I guess everybody has a breaking point.”

 

 The two whiskeys arrived. Wilson reached over, took one from in front of House, and drained it in one go.

 

“Better?” House asked.

 

“Why do you assume that you will be the one to do the unforgivable thing?” Wilson asked.

 

House laughed. “You’re a saint. Even when you do things that are a pain in my ass, they’re always ultimately the right thing to do.”

 

Wilson suddenly looked despondently down to his whiskey glass.

 

“Let’s do something right now. Let’s pretend that tomorrow isn’t going to happen.”

 

“What are you-?” At least Wilson was now looking up.

 

“Right now, let’s pretend that tomorrow isn’t happening. We can say what we want to each other and tomorrow, it will be like we never said it. Fresh slate.”

 

_I don’t think that’s a good idea._

 

Beat. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

 

“Go on, say what ever you’ve always wanted to say to me. I can handle it.”

 

“You’re drunk.”

 

_You’re drunk._

 

“Which means I probably won’t remember tomorrow.”

 

For a moment, Wilson sized him up. “Fine, do you want me to say what I really think of you? I love you, Greg. But you can be absolutely the most frustrating person to be around! Your insensitivity at times is absolutely astonishing! You always pigheadedly do whatever you want, even at the extent of other people. At times, you’re pretty much impossible to like. I put up with it, because I see the wall for what it is… but it still doesn’t make it unbearable at times.”

_Over a hundred days. That. Was. Different._

 

House was silent a few moments, absorbing the rant. “Well, that wasn’t exactly what I was expecting….”

 

“You asked.” Wilson shrugged.

 

“And you  certainly answered.”

 

Wilson took a deep breath, as though preparing himself.

 

“Go on. Your go. Give me your best shot.”

 

“I am a little bit attracted to men. On a Kinsey scale, I’d say I sit around a two. I also had a homosexual experience in college. I just never told you because it was more fun to watch you squirm when I teased you about our own experiences-“

 

“See! This is exactly what-“

 

“I also am attracted to you.”

 

This did have the desired effect of shutting Wilson up. House didn’t continue on a moment, expecting Wilson’s usual denials. What was different about today? Surely, they’d done every variation of this, in the past?

 

“I just never told you because I figured it may have an effect on the friendship.”

 

“So why are you telling me now?”

 

“Because you won’t remember tomorrow.”

 

Wilson’s expression was suddenly unreadable, but for an odd smirk that played around his lips. “I guess it’s up to me to get the bill… as usual.”

 

###

 

Wilson was quiet on the way back to the hotel room. As soon as House entered and closed the door, he was startled by the hand suddenly snaking around the back of his head.

 

“As we have decided we will conveniently forget this tomorrow…”

 

Suddenly, Wilson’s mouth was on his. House gasped, not responding a fraction of a second, his mind whirling, as the other man’s tongue entered his mouth. 108 days, plus over ten years… what had changed to suddenly have Wilson jump him like this?

 

_Oh who cares?_

 

House responded with equal vigor, allowing himself to be slammed up against the hotel room door. He had often fantasized what kissing his best friend would be like. Receiving the right kiss was, in his experience, often as complicated as any of his most advanced medical theories. People either used their tongue like a vacuum cleaner, attempting to suck all of the air out of their partner’s throat, or they used their teeth like their partner’s tongue and gum were chocolate, or they were a saliva factory. Stacy was always passionate, but also of the vacuum cleaner variety. Cuddy was nice, just the right amount of tongue, not too much saliva. This lead to it being a bit too chaste, for House’s liking.

 

If he had to grade Wilson’s kiss he would give it a high distinction. Not only was it technically perfect, but it was also hot, passionate, with an almost fanatical desperation. House wasn’t even aware how hard he was, until he felt Wilson unzip his trousers and grip his cock, stroking it with the perfect amount of friction to have him groaning, as thrills of pleasure rushed up his body. He forsaked Wilson’s mouth to trail his tongue over, then under his jaw to his throat, before alternating between kissing and licking the stubbled flesh that tasted vaguely bitter, astringent aftershave now filling his nostrils. His hands fumbled at the buttons of Wilson’s shirt and he grabbed the now irritating tie and tore it open. On Wilson’s side, he was making little mewling sounds, rubbing his erection against House’s thigh, his second hand kneeding at House’s ass. If he weren’t so damned turned on, House would almost find it cute.

 

He could feel his climax building and tried to put it off, to think about something else… Tritter naked… but it wasn’t working, particularly as Wilson seemed determined to stroke him to completion. Giving up, he gripped the younger man close to him, slamming their bodies together, as the powerful height of pleasure ripped a groan from his throat, his hips thrusting powerfully forward, as though caught in an electrical surge. Relishing the moment, he allowed himself to slowly come down… and then he was back with his own body, with its own usual aches.  Pushing Wilson back a little, he sank, a little painfully, to his knees. Seeing his discomfort, Wilson started to say

 

“You don’t have to…”

 

He could see the proof of his own climax all over Wilson’s half open shirt and stomach. But that was not what he was interested in. Wilson was already erect and leaking precum. He leant forward and took him in his mouth, using all of the techniques various hookers throughout the years had taught him. Wilson started to mewl again, and then cried out, his cock spasming in House’s mouth, filling his mouth with his release. House loved his friend. But not enough to swallow his cum. He released Wilson’s cock and spat the semen onto the ground.

 

“Wow!” Wilson was still panting. “That was…my shirt is ruined.”

 

###

 

Day 130

 

“Wow!” Wilson was still panting. “That was…my shirt is ruined.”

 

House supposed that any other person would feel a bit… guilty perhaps?… about using an eternally recurring day as an excuse to every day seduce their best friend. For three weeks, he’d been making out with the one he’d always been attracted to. Who wouldn’t attempt that? He reasoned to himself.

 

“Just a bit of washing. It will come out.”

 

“Always such a way with words.” Wilson rolled his eyes, as House painfully stood, taking his vicodin bottle out of his pocket, popping the cap and throwing the two tablets in the air before swallowing them. Seeing Wilson rearranging his clothes, House zipped up his own fly. Though the sex always consisted of either frottage, handjobs or oral sex, there was always a slight variance, whether it be amount of clothes removed, or furniture they were against or on, or who was doing what to who. Whether or not Wilson had a shower after also varied. Today seemed to be a non-shower day. House grabbed his half undone tie and pulled him to him, lazily kissing him on the mouth.

 

“Say it was true… and when you wake up tomorrow, you truly do not remember what happened today, and I do, would that be wrong?” House said.

 

“How are you planning on giving me amnesia?” Wilson grinned, reaching his hand out to lazily stroke patterns on House’s neck. He resisted closing his eyes, relishing in the simple contact from another human being. The truth was, he wanted more. Having Wilson’s mouth and hands wasn’t enough. He longed to have him, in the most intimate of fashions.

 

No, he told himself. He didn’t think it possible to talk Wilson into _that_ , in one day.

 

“Hell no! I want you to remember everything that I did to you.”

 

Wilson responded by leaning forward, so their lips clashed, once more. When they released, Wilson moved away, towards the bed. He watched his friend take out a spare change of clothes from his case.

 

“Aren’t you going to change?”

 

“Shower….” House said. “Would you like to join me?”

 

Every time he asked this, in the three weeks they’d been intimate, Wilson always replied the same way.

 

“Well, why not? Seeing we’re both dreadfully dirty.”  
  


Every time they’d then go into the shower, the soaping each other up scenario would lead to more. House could only come to one conclusion. Wilson liked sex in the shower. House’s libido had considerably slowed down, in his later years. But, he never failed to be ready, in this scenario. He told himself he couldn’t let down his friend/lover, could he? He was simply being a good friend.

 

###

 

Day 131

 

In his various sexual escapades, House managed to break various items. After one furious fight, in which both he and Stacey threw many a dish at each other, they had sex, right on top of the smashed porcelain. Even though he ended up with cuts all down his back, it was the best orgasm he’d had in a long time. Another time, him and and a redhead he met on holiday in Stockholm, slammed the hotel room bed so hard against the wall, the damage was taken out of his credit card.

 

He could now add a new one to the list. Both he and Wilson together, had managed to break the towel rack. This time, they had started to dry hump each other before even turning on the shower. Wilson had leant up against the rack, or rather House had pushed him half onto it. Either way, he hadn’t realized that, because of his damned leg (always that damned leg) he didn’t have the strength to support Wilson’s entire weight. Nor, it seemed, could the towel rack. Neither seemed to realise, too busy using their mouths to bite, suck and lick, their hands to stroke, to tug, to pinch every bit of flesh they could find. House suddenly found himself reacquainted with Newton’s law, as, with a loud snap, the simple wooden bracket plummeted to the ground, taking Wilson, and a now overbalanced House with it.

 

They hit the linoleum in a very ungraceful, flailing tangle of arms and legs.

 

“Well… I guess that means I need to lay off the pasta, for a while.” Wilson said, laughing, as House extricated himself, then helped his friend up. “Can’t say that’s ever happened.”

 

House didn’t care about the flimsy wall bracket. He still felt painfully hard and wanted to finish what they had started. Wilson, however, continued to examine the wall, still laughing to himself.

 

“Would you have sex with me?” House asked.

 

Wilson whipped around. “I thought that’s what we were doing.”

 

“What I mean is, would you allow me to have sexual intercourse with you?”

 

For a moment, Wilson didn’t speak, though merriment still played around the edges of his dark irises. “Is this how you have sex with all of your conquests? I mean, your bedside manner isn’t great at the best of times… but this… this is pretty clinical, detached-“

 

“Can I fuck you? Is that better?”

 

“Wow! I am just so turned on right now!” There was no doubting the sarcasm now.

 

House could feel something slipping away but wasn’t sure how to retrieve it. No matter. Wilson wouldn’t remember in the morning, he told himself.

 

“What do you want me to say then?”

 

Wilson shook his head. “The mood’s gone.” He gestured to his distinct lack of erection. “I think having a towel rack almost go right up my rectum might have something to do with that.”

 

“Not for me it hasn’t!” So, there it was. Word vomit had just erupted from House’s mouth.

 

The humour instantly went from Wilson’s eyes.

 

He won’t remember House told himself. Tomorrow will be as new.

 

“Oh, I forgot. My entire role in life is to please you! Oh, I guess if you must _fuck_ me then…” Wilson turned and braced himself against the wall. “If you make it quick you can still catch your favourite soap at two.”

 

This was now Cuddy levels of sarcasm. House realized he would have to tread carefully.

 

“That was wrong. I apologize.”

 

“Hold on, hold on.” Wilson suddenly ran through the bathroom doorway. Perplexed House followed him from the ensuite. His partner didn’t seem to care about the fact that he was naked, as he sprinted to the table in the far left corner of the hotel room, by the door. House felt relief that the blinds were closed. He wasn’t bothered about people seeing _his_ nakedness. However, he did not wish for any unsuspecting New Zealander to look up and catch a glimpse of Wilson’s nakedness, through the second floor window of the hotel. That was for House’s eyes, only. Ok ok, House told himself. He also didn’t wish for his friend to feel in any way humiliated. Not that he needed to be. He had a very cute ass.

 

This thinking didn’t help House’s current raging hard on… so he tried to think of other things. _Tritter… naked_. No, it wasn’t working.

 

As House deliberated, Wilson grabbed a pen and the paper of the breakfast order menu off the table, slammed it on the wall and started writing on it.

 

“What are you doing?” House asked.

 

“I’m writing a statement for you to sign. I want, in writing, the first time you’ve ever properly admitted that you’re wrong and apologized for anything.”

 

“I’ve apologized for things!”

 

Wilson ignored him, continuing to write.

 

“Alright, I take it back then! In fact, you should be the one apologizing!”

 

The pen froze.

 

“Why? Why should I be the one?”

 

He attempted levity. “Because you’ve got such a cute ass… it makes me want to constantly harass you for sex.”

 

It worked. A smile quirked up the corner of Wilson’s lips. “I’m surprised no one ever sued you for sexual harassment.”

 

“You love it, you know it.” 

 

Wilson shook his head. “If you weren’t so ruggedly handsome…”

 

House disagreed with that statement. He had never thought of himself as much to look at. But, if Wilson wanted to believe it, he wouldn’t dissuade him of it.

 

“Well, I guess we are both naked. We could put our clothes back on…”

 

House probably set a personal new record at how fast he crossed the distance between them.

 

Nothing was broken, this time.

 

After, both lay panting on the bed, bodies still coming down from the shared orgasm that each other’s hand had given. Wilson’s hand came out and leisurely stroked his stomach.

 

This was as close to Wilson got to ‘cuddling’. After the sex, there was never any talk about the ‘relationship’, never any dissection of what where they would go, or what this meant. In fact, Wilson simply still acted like… Wilson. It was just that they’d slotted in sex, between the sarcastic, yet affectionate parameters of their friendship. House had to admit to secret relief. He wasn’t sure if he could bare if, for even one day, Wilson started to get whiney or emotional about the sudden change their relationship had taken.

 

This is _Wilson_ , he told himself. Are you that arrogant that you think a bit of sex… admittedly good sex, would totally change a person’s personality?

 

“If you don’t remember any of this… and yet I keep managing to seduce you, day after day…”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Say, for example if I was repeating the same day.”

 

“You mean like Groundhog day?”

 

House gritted his teeth. “I kept seducing you, day after day. In the morning, you’d forget. But I managed to still make out with you over and over… would that be wrong?”

 

He personally didn’t feel as though he was doing anything wrong. But then, he had to begrudgingly admit, he was not the best judge of his own character.

 

“Well… it would not be so great for me. I’d be denied the chance to make out with you over and over. For me, it would only be the first time… every time.”

 

“Well, or the second… sometimes even third… You’re pretty voracious.” House grinned. A thought occurred to him. “You’re not an anal virgin, are you? With those men in college…”

 

“House, you always ask the most inappropriate questions.” A slight blush graced Wilson’s cheeks.

 

“Good. Not a virgin, then.”

 

“Seeing as you seem to think I won’t remember today, anyway, try seducing me to anal sex tomorrow. See how you go.” Wilson said, kissing House’s shoulder, his voice tinged with humor.

 

“I’ll take you up on that offer. Thank you.” House said.

 

“Always happy to please a friend.”

 

“I’m counting on it. But then, I’m also counting on giving you the orgasm of the century.”

 

“Now that will be impressive! Too bad I won’t remember you telling me this!”

 

Of course, Wilson clearly thought that House was being silly… for the sake of it. His friend certainly did not believe in his recurring day story. Even so, House was serious, when he told him he would take him upon the offer.

 

Tbc…

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all who are reading and continuing on this crazy story! (thanks especially to kudos and comments). More smut in this chapter.

Day 132

 

“Well, I, for one plan on going. I’m sure that watching an empty stage for half an hour will make for one exhilarating time.”

 

He could feel the dark eyes lingering on his back a moment, before the bathroom door slammed. House rolled over, grabbing his vicodin bottle off the nightstand between the two beds. He flicked the lid off and gulped down two pills, frowned, then gulped down two more.

 

Better.

 

The shower turned on in the other room with a gentle hiss. The alarm clock still flashed 1.14, the time it had evidentially shorted out at, the night before _._ The vicodin hadn’t entirely kicked in, but House knew he had to move fast. Ignoring the throb shooting up his leg, he forced himself into a half squat, to bend down to the case at the side of the bed, hastily unzipping it to withdraw a t-shirt, boxers and jeans. He glanced at the clock once more. 1.15. He had five minutes until Wilson reemerged from the bathroom. With record speed, he changed into the clothes, and then grabbed his cane, and the key from the bedside table. The clock was now 1.18. As fast as his damaged leg could take him, House limped over to the door and moved out of the hotel room.

 

###

 

As soon as he stepped out from the lobby, and the wind chill pierced through his leather jacket, he regretted not grabbing thicker apparel.  Clutching the jacket closer to his chest, he hurried down the street. Though it was still relatively early, the street was alive with people, who rushed to and fro, with the frenetic pace of all workers and students desperate to get to their respective places on time. House felt strangely warmed by the thought that this student town, on the other side of the world from where he usually went about his business, still operated on the same principles, during rush hour. More than once, a couple of people almost knocked him down. Yes, it was weirdly comforting to know that everywhere in the world, when people were in a hurry to be somewhere, they still acted like dicks.

 

A simple convenience store stood less than a block from the hotel. House stepped inside and momentarily basked in the lack of wind chill. There were only a few people in the store; a blonde filling up a dollar cup of coffee and an old man bent over the chocolate rack. House strolled straight over to the toiletries aisle.

 

The lube he located straight away. That was a necessity. But the condoms… of course, he would purchase them. However, unlike other aspects of his life, STD testing was always a stringent necessity. Though he hadn’t actually had sex in the past six months, his very confidential specialist had cleared him of any potential nasties merely a month before. He had a secret rule. Condoms with anything paid for. If the sex was with someone he genuinely cared about, then he would give them the option of using them or not.

 

Of course, he thought, picking up the box of durex, he would give Wilson the option. But he would prefer not. After all, he was well aware that Wilson was also stringent in getting tested. In acknowledgement of this fact, House often made jokes about him being the hospital slut, which Wilson took with his usual customary roll of eyes and sharp humour.

House wasn’t going to really push it… but he had to admit, he did want a chance to at least use the lube today.

 

He went up to the front counter. Good, good. The lady sitting ramrod straight behind looked to be at least fifty, all carefully pressed clothes and manicured nails. She scanned the lube and condoms with a frozen smile, the disapproval clear in her eyes. House gave her the money and winked.

 

“I plan to have a _wonderful_ day.”

 

“Goodbye.” The woman could barely withhold her distain. House’s smile grew wider. Now she was going to be fun to go to, every morning, to pick up his supplies.

 

Next to the convenience store stood a shop with a lurid flourescent sign in the front window reading “Alice Fry: Psychic and Healer.”  For a moment, House stood in front, bemusing himself at all the paraphernalia in the front window; tarot cards, speak to your angel cards, ouiji boards, incense, new age books on how why people were responsible for all the terrible things that happened to them.

 

Alice Fry: Bullshit artist, House thought to himself, before moving on.

 

###

 

“Where were you?” Wilson was putting on his shoes and socks, when House arrived back up at the hotel room.

 

“Picked up coffee!” House thrust a steaming cup towards him.

 

“Are you unwell?” Wilson took the cup off him, took a sip, and then put it down on the floor, a scowl on his mouth, as he diverted his attention back to his feet. “Needs more sugar.”

 

House put his own cup down on the bedside table and went into the bathroom, taking the condoms and lube from his pockets and shoving them into the cabinets under the bathroom mirror. He then straightened up and looked at his face a moment. Was it wrong for him to be formulating a plan to have sex with his best friend? Probably, he told himself. Was it worse that he didn’t care if it was wrong?

 

House stumbled towards the door and picked up his cane. Outside the bathroom, Wilson sat on the bed, dressed and ready to go.

“That tie looks good on you.” House remarked.

 

###

 

Speech. Celebratory drinks. Discussion leading to sex.

 

“I just never told you because I figured it may have an effect on the friendship.” House said, making certain to say it in the exact same way he’d said it for the past month.

 

_And now Wilson says ‘So why are you telling me now?’_

 

“So why are you telling me now?”

_And I say-_

“Because you won’t remember tomorrow.”

 

_And Wilson gets that odd look on his face, like he’s sizing me up, which he probably is. Yes, it is up to you to get the bill. As you have every single day. Sex and  free drinks and lunch. I’m a blessed man._

 

 “I guess it’s up to me to get the bill… as usual.”

 

###

 

As soon as House entered and closed the door, Wilson’s hand snaked around the back of his head. House remembered to act startled.

 

“As we have decided we will conveniently forget this tomorrow…”

 

Wilson’s mouth was then on his.House responded with equal vigor, allowing himself to be slammed up against the hotel room door.  House felt Wilson unzip his trousers and grip his cock, stroking it with the perfect amount of friction to have him groaning, as thrills of pleasure rushed up his body.

 

“Want you…” House moaned, reaching around to grab Wilson’s ass. Wilson suddenly pulled back. His face was flushed, hair in disarray. House found the look perfectly adorable.

 

“This is crazy, isn’t it? Why are we doing this?”

 

In the twenty plus days House had seduced him into having sex, Wilson had never asked that question before.

 

“I know why I’m doing it. I guess you need to ask yourself why _you’re_ doing it.”

 

For a moment, uncertainty overcame the refined features. Wilson then smirked.

“Wanna fuck?”

 

House felt his erection jump up even further. He didn’t think it was possible.

 

“I think we’d be a lot more comfortable on the bed.” House indicated.

 

“I don’t have any…” Wilson said, as he started undoing his shirt.

 

“Give me… two seconds.” House stepped out of his trousers and underwear and walked into the bathroom. He had to admit, this felt a little surreal. When he came back, Wilson had his shirt and tie off and sat at the end of the bed, taking off his shoes and socks. House looked down and realized that he too, was wearing footwear. He threw the lube and condoms onto the bed and started to follow suite.

 

“You… had these just in case?” Wilson said, as he removed his own trousers and underwear. “When did you plan to add in sex to the agenda? We were only going to be here three days! Actually, why am I even questioning this?”

 

“To be honest, I went out and brought them this morning.” House shrugged off his jacket and threw his t-shirt over his head. For a moment, both stood staring at each other’s nakedness. House felt uncharacteristically self-conscious. “I was hoping to have sex with you by this afternoon.” He said, quickly.

 

“Well, I’m not coming there.” Wilson beckoned him forward. House grinned and came to the bed, kissing him first on the mouth, then moving down his body, placing kisses on his chest, then stomach, then taking his erection into his mouth. He had only done this a few times in college, to another man. The first time, Ross Jones had complained about it hurting, so House had quickly pulled out. The second time had been a little better, but not by much. House had even tried it once himself. He found himself surprisingly enjoying it. After a few minutes, Wilson started moaning, and bucking up into his mouth. House fumbled for the lube and flicked it open, covering his fingers in it and tenderly slipping it inside the puckered hole. He could not get over the surreal ness of the situation. Finally, after years of fantasizing, he was about to have his best friend.  He slipped another finger in, pressing up further, until he reached the spot that had Wilson jump and moan, in a way that Ross Jones never did. He pressed up against the spot again, adding a third finger. Wilson moaned again.

 

“Greg… please…” He moaned. “You need to… please…”

 

House moved back, fumbling for the condoms. Wilson put a hand on his. “We’re both clean.” He said. For a moment, House’s hand froze. “I was tested a few weeks ago. You?”

 

“A month ago. I’ve never… you know I’ve never had anything… surprising, considering what a slut I am.”

 

Wilson broke out into the warmest smile that House had seen in days. “Me too.” He placed his hand on House’s chest and gently pushed him back, then rolled over onto his stomach. House stilled, for a moment relishing the body offered up to him. He had wanted this for so long. Don’t muck it up, he told himself, slathering his erect cock in lube.

 

Leaning down on Wilson’s back, he gently kissed his neck, as he slowly entered his body. Wilson stiffened. Telling himself to take his time, House reached around to his erection, pumping it with his hand, moving in ever so slowly, until he was fully inside. For a moment, he stilled, allowing his friend/lover to be used to his size, allowing himself to be used to the sensation. He had to admit to himself, it was incredible. It took all of his resolve not to thrust hard into the tight heat surrounding him. Finally, Wilson started to buck up against him, moaning impatiently. House started to thrust, slowly at first, then moving faster. After a few minutes, they got into a rhythm together, Wilson thrusting up against him, as he thrust forwards. House moved a little faster. Wilson moaned now with every thrust. House found himself unable to stop from moaning, at the feel of the tight body around him. He wanted it to go for as long as possible. He would feel himself building to orgasm, then would stop, stilling himself, forcing the feeling to fall, his hand frozen on Wilson’s cock. House wasn’t sure how long the sex lasted for.  Finally, Wilson started to moan. “Need you to.. want you to come…” He sighed. This certainly did not help House’s desire to have it last much longer. Wilson came first, crying out and spasming in House’s hand, as he pulsated against House’s cock. This became too much. He thrust forward a few more times, crying out himself, as he came, deep inside the willing body.

 

Exhausted, his collapsed on top of his friend. For a few minutes, the two attempted to get their collective breaths back.

 

“That was… something…” Wilson remarked, as House gently pulled out. “You wore me out.”

 

House moved to the side, as Wilson rolled over onto his own side. Both faced each other.  A slight smile played on Wilson’s face.

 

“Well, hopefully, when we get our strength back, I can wear you out again.” House said.

 

###

 

Day 162

 

Wilson came first, crying out and spasming in House’s hand, as he pulsated against House’s cock. This became too much. He thrust forward a few more times, crying out himself, as he came, deep inside the willing body.

 

Exhausted, his collapsed on top of his friend. For a few minutes, the two attempted to get their collective breaths back.

 

“That was… something…” Wilson remarked, as House gently pulled out. “You wore me out.”

 

House moved to the side, as Wilson rolled over onto his own side. Both faced each other.  A slight smile played on Wilson’s face.

 

Thirty days of sex… House thought to himself. I’ve ejaculated inside Wilson forty eight times. He’s ejaculated in me nineteen times. Guess I’m just selfish that way. I prefer to be the dominant one.

 

He knew exactly what  to say, to get the reaction he wanted. He knew what to do to get a blowjob, he knew the words and actions to be inside the tight body once more, or to have Wilson inside him.

 

“What’s wrong?” Wilson frowned.

 

It felt almost too… automated. He enjoyed the sex, yes, immensely and it was clear that Wilson did too. But he wanted more spontaneity. He pulled Wilson to him and hungrily kissed him. Wilson passionately reciprocated.

 

_You’re an animal, with a smile._

 

“You’re an animal.” Wilson smiled.

 

How do I break free of this? House thought, a little desperately. He wanted Wilson, but more than one day’s worth. He was getting tired of making the same effort, every day, having the same response.

 

House finally had to admit the truth, painful as it was.

_I’ve fallen in love with him… the son of a bitch._

###

 

Day 163

 

The shower turned on in the other room with a gentle hiss. The alarm clock still flashed 1.14, the time it had evidentially shorted out at, the night before. House watched it flick over to 1.20. A fully dressed Wilson stepped out of the bathroom, tie in hand. He ventured over to the wide mirror overlooking the beds and looped the attire around his neck, under the shirt collar. The lessened throb of his vastus medialis muscle allowed House to sit up.

 

“Red tie today. Brings out the colour of those gorgeous brown eyes. Tell me, Jimmy, are you trying to look pretty for someone?”

 

“Hm… well, considering that you are the only person I currently know in this town…”

 

House forced himself to stand up, and moved behind Wilson.

 

“What are you-?” Wilson turned to face him. House grabbed him by the tie and forced his face forward, mashing his mouth against his friend’s.

 

“Woh!” Wilson pushed him back. “What are you doing?”

 

“I’m mixing things up! That’s what I’m doing!”

 

“I don’t know what this is.” Wilson started to redo his tie. “But I’m not in the mood for… whatever that was.”

 

“Why do I always have to wait till the afternoon to have sex with you?”

 

Wilson simply stared at him, exasperated look on his face. “Can we wait until after the lecture to talk about… whatever this is? If we don’t leave within the next five minutes, we’re gonna be late!”

 

“Fine…” House grumbled. “I’ll do your damned lecture.”

 

###

 

He was half way down the outside corridor, when he heard familiar footsteps rushing towards him.

 

“What the hell was that all about?”

 

House turned. “What was what about? I did what you asked me, didn’t I? I was a success! Hail the amazing doctor!”

 

Wilson simply stared at him a moment, eyes blazing. “I’m talking about this morning, when you tried to kiss me!”

 

“I didn’t _try_ , Jimmy. I did kiss you. Why don’t you just admit it? You are attracted to me. Why is it so hard for you?”

 

“I’m not attracted to you. Where on earth did you get that crazy idea from?”

 

The wooden doors to the entrance of the lecture halls opened, the clatter of feet and upturned desks signaling that the students would be exiting the room within the next few seconds.

 

Oh, I don’t know… maybe the fact that you’ve happily been having sex with me, for what amounts to about two months.

“I know you’re convinced that the entire solar system revolves around your genius, but it doesn’t. It simply doesn’t.”

 

“The students are about to come out. Let’s not embarrass ourselves in front of them.”

 

House led him away, onto the autumn lawn, feeling slightly miffed that he most probably wouldn’t get any sex that day.

 

“I don’t think the entire solar system revolves around my genius. But I do know that you are attracted to me. And you would have sex with me. Easily.”

 

“That’s-“ Wilson shook his head.

 

“You’d be literally begging me to come inside you.”

 

Another look passed over his friend’s face, not exactly anger…

 

“Why is it hurting you to hear this?” House asked, bewildered.

 

“You’re an asshole.” Wilson stood up.

 

“Jimmy…” House began.

 

“Fuck off!” Wilson snapped, hurrying away from him.

 

###

 

Day 164

 

“Need you to.. want you to come…”

 

Wilson came first, crying out and spasming in House’s hand, as he pulsated against House’s cock. This was usually enough to make House come. But he was having trouble, that day. Hell, he had trouble even becoming erect. Wilson had to help out a little there, using his mouth. As House continued to thrust, his mind was plagued by the day before. His friend certainly was a conundrum. If he did everything right, he could seduce him by the afternoon, as he’d done today. Only yesterday, he’d fallen spectacularly wrong. Perhaps Wilson had thought he was laughing at him? Taunting his feelings?

 

“Come inside me, Greg…” Wilson moaned, bringing him back to the present. Hell, now this was working.

 

“You like this?” He asked.

 

“So good…”

 

“You want it harder?”

 

“Mm…”

 

“Yes!” He redoubled his efforts. Oh yes, that was much better. He was about to…

With almost sweet relief he finally came.

 

Exhausted, his collapsed on top of his friend. For a few minutes, the two attempted to get their breaths back.

 

“That was… something…” Wilson remarked, as House gently pulled out. “You wore me out.”

 

House moved to the side, as Wilson rolled over onto his own side. Both faced each other.  A slight smile played on Wilson’s face.

 

“I really think I’ve fallen in love with you.” House admitted.

 

“Oh dear… just because we just had great sex…” Wilson laughed.

 

House shrugged. “The great sex was just the bonus.” He paused. “You are attracted to me, aren’t you?”

 

“No, I always have sex with people I’m not attracted to.  Makes it more interesting, you know?” Wilson suddenly sat up. “You’re serious,  aren’t you?”

 

“This morning, you wouldn’t have possibly conceived that this would happen-“

 

“Nor did you…I refuse to play into your ego by reaffirming what you already know about how attractive, charming and intelligent you are.”

 

House grinned. “Oh I have crippling esteem issues, as you know.” He leant forward to kiss his lips. “Feel free to play to my ego.”

 

###

“I plan to have a _wonderful_ day.” House said to the largish woman behind the convenience store counter. “I’m going to use up the entire bottle of lube! And every single condom.”

 

“Goodbye.” The woman shoved his items into his hand.

 

House passed the shop with the fluorescent sign, “Alice Fry: Psychic and Healer.”  He found himself inexplicably stopping.

 

_Well, if anyone had the potential to know what the hell is going on…_

_What am I doing? These people are all con artists!_  

 

Even so, House found himself stepping up to the glass door entrance, stepping through to the incense laden store interior.

 

Tbc…


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay with this chapter. Thanks to all who are reading. Hope you enjoy this one! Laying off the smut in this chapter.

The quaint tinkle of a bell above the door signaled House’s entrance into the store. He instantly moved to peruse the shelves of various herbs, soaps, incense, books and cards, his mouth twisted in a half smirk/half frown. The sickening scent of incense, permeating the entire store, threatened to have him rush back out, to be sick. Sitting on one particular shelf, amongst the angel, and tarot cards were “fairy” cards. House picked them up with the delicacy of a person handling toxic waste.

 

“Can I help you?” A pretty, fortyish woman came out from a beaded curtain behind the front counter.

 

“Fairy cards?”

 

“Would you like to buy them?”

 

“Would I like to buy them? No. I’m more intrigued as to why one would want to buy cards that illicit help from beings that don’t exist.” He paused. “You do _realise_ they don’t exist, right?”

 

The woman surprised him by laughing, as she took the cards from his hands. “It’s amazing what people believe.”

 

“So, you don’t believe in all of this?” He gestured around himself.

 

The woman shrugged and then placed the cards back on the shelf. “If it gives people peace to believe in fairies, who am I to judge them?”

 

“Also, you can make good money off fleecing them.”

 

Instantly, the humour went from the dark eyes. “Can I help you with anything?”

 

“I’m not sure… I saw the words psychic healer out the front. Alice something.”

 

The woman’s eyes flicked down to his cane then up again.

 

“That’s my mother. Fifty dollars for half an hour.”

 

“What’s she going to do? Put a spell on me?” He didn’t bother to hide his sarcasm.

 

“She’s a very established healer and psychic-“

 

“Very good cold reader, in other words-“

 

“I really don’t have the time today to listen to skeptics so-“

 

House took out his wallet, fished around for money and pulled out a fifty-dollar note, shoving it in her hand.

 

“Give me a few minutes.” She looked distinctly disgruntled.

 

House watched her put the money in the till, and then walk behind the beaded curtain. He amused himself by picking up the fairy cards, once more and reading the back.

 

_Mystical fairy cards, for insightful inspiration and meditation, comprising the top echelons of the fairy kingdom…_

_People truly believe in this?_

The sheer stupidity of people never ceased to amaze him.

 

“This way.” The woman had now reappeared behind the front counter.

 

House allowed himself to be lead behind the beaded curtain and down a short corridor, then through a door to the side. The corresponding room consisted of a small simple wooden table, with two chairs on either side. A large painting of a winding path sat on one wall, the other was blank, the paint a garish yellow. Seated behind the table was a short, wiry haired elderly lady, with a gentle smile.

 

“Come, sit down. I’m Alice.”

 

Slowly, House made his way over to the chair, his pain inexplicably firing up, as he asked himself why he was even there.

 

The woman stared at him a long moment. ( _reading me_ … _who cares? Need the vicodin_.)

 

“Finally, you came.” She said and then closed her eyes, silent a moment.

_What kind of crap is she going to pull out? This should be interesting..._

 “I see… You’re in a loop, repeating over and over.” She opened her eyes, looking directly at him. Her eyes were very dark in the overhead flurescent light.

 

Though technically what she said was correct, House did not credit her. She could say the same thing to others and it would make sense. Who doesn’t feel as though their in a loop, in life? House told himself, ignoring the sudden thudding of his heart.

 

“Something went wrong… the first time. Do you understand?” She paused. “So now it repeats…” She closed her eyes, looked puzzled a moment. “I think you were meant to come to me….”

 

_Right, and give you money? I know how this works. Now you’re going to tell me I’ve had a curse placed on me, which will cost a thousand, two, ten? To remove? I guess it depends how good you are. And I bet you sized me up as soon as I walked in the door._

 

“I think that’s what went wrong. You were meant to come to me and didn’t. Although this isn’t to do with me. .or you, for that matter. It’s to do with him. The one you brought with you…. Will… no… Jim… Jimmy.”

 

House could now hear the pumping of his heart in his chest. Lub. mitral,  tricuspid valves, Dub. semi lunar, pulmonary valves. Lub. Dub. Lub. Dub.

 

It doesn’t mean anything, he told himself. A lucky guess, or they may have seen us around town.

 

_Today…? When? You arrived late last night. And you walked out by yourself. This day, that is._

 

“He is your soul mate.”

 

House stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

 

Lub. Dub. Lub. Dub. Lub. Dub.

 

“You both work in the same field. But have differing approaches. He is warm. Caring. Others like him. You enjoy being prickly, standoffish.”

 

House told himself that guesswork and cold reading would achieve the same results.

 

“He won’t admit his feelings for you. Not in one day. He’ll give his body to you, in one day, but not himself.”

 

“What is this?” House snapped. “Psychological bullshit. If this is meant to be fifty dollars worth of so called ‘psychic ability’ then you’ll have to try a hell of a lot harder, lady!”

 

The woman did not seem the least fazed by his outburst. Her calm smile notched his irritation up another rung.

 

“You never forgave Stacy for your leg. But she did what she had to. It’s time to let it go.”

 

House felt the irritation depart, replaced by a fearful bewilderment that knotted his stomach.

 

Lubdublubdublubdub.

 

Another coincidence… he told himself. But then, how many coincidences would he allow? How could this woman know so much abut him, considering he had only, from her perspective, come here the night before?

 

“May I?”

 

“How did you know about Stacy?” He all but whispered, as she carefully maneuvered around the table, to his leg.

 

“You’ll need to take off your pants.”

 

“What are you going to do?” He asked.

 

“I’m going to heal you.”

 

“You can’t. It’s not possible.”

 

She smiled. “A lot of people tell me that. They’re wrong.”

 

“And how much more will you charge me for this impromptu… healing?” He was starting to feel a little more himself. “No!” He stood up. “I need to leave. I need to go, right now.”

 

“You will come back. A year or so from now. Jimmy will get sick. Very sick. You will both quit your jobs. You will finally get to be together. Properly. And you will come here. I’ll give him the chance no other could.”

 

_All just nonsense. Making up crap that can later only conveniently be denied or confirmed, when I’m far away from her._

 

“I don’t believe in magic. If you could really heal people, you would be world famous, not stuck in the back of some store in south-east New Zealand. And I would be out of a job.”

 

A wry smile twisted her lips. “Perhaps I don’t want to be famous. And perhaps, even if I did want to be, no one would believe me, anyway.”

 

“Because you’re a fraud, like the rest.”

 

“And you… are you a fraud? How do you explain your current situation? You did it to yourself! That is the key to it. Do you understand?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.  You have ended it now. You will see. The loop is over.”

 

House shook his head. He suddenly didn’t want to get out of there fast enough.

 

“Jimmy is waiting at the hotel. He’s not very happy. If you leave now, you can still make your speech.” She called after him, as he rushed from the room.

 

That must have been how she knew so much about him, he thought, as he raced down the corridor and through the beaded curtain. Small town. Two famous doctors coming in from the United States to do a talk at the local university. She probably had tabs on every well established person who came into the city from overseas.

 

“Is everything-?” The daughter asked, as he rushed past her.

 

“Fine… everything is fine…” He all but slammed into the door, on his way out.

 

###

 

“Where were you?” Wilson stood by the hotel room door, arms folded, face set in irritated expression.

 

“Picked up coffee!” House thrust a steaming cup towards him.

 

“If we leave now, you’ll only be ten minutes late. ” Wilson took the cup off him, took a sip, then scowled. “Needs more sugar.”

 

“Alright, let’s go.”

 

“Damn you!” Wilson said, as House opened the door for him. “Do you have any concept-? Let me refresh you on a few things. I got you this lecture, remember? The hospital was about to fire you. And with good reason. But I told them you’d be a good boy and do this one thing for them, to prove your loyalty.”

 

“And I will, Jimmy. It’s ok! We’re leaving now.”

 

###

 

“Here’s to us, my good friend!”

 

House raised his glass of whiskey and clanked it against Wilson’s. His friend drank silently, a slight frown on his face.

 

“So, where _did_ you go, this morning?”

_Oh hell, don't mind about that!_

“Tell me, Wilson, do you like your job?”

 

_I really need sex, this afternoon_.

 

“My job is one of the few things in life that I do love, you know that. Everything else just… always goes to shit. Probably even will with you, eventually. Nice way of dodging the question, by the way. I just hope you didn’t make me late just to go see a prostitute.”

 

“Actually, I went to see a psychic.”

 

“Uhuh.” Wilson took another sip of his whiskey.

_Why not?_

“She told me that we were soul mates.”

 

“Ah so she was clearly brilliant then!” There was no doubting the sarcasm in his tone.

 

“Meant to be together.”

 

“How many of those have you had?” He signaled the glass in House’s hand.

 

“Why don’t you just admit it? You are attracted to me. Why is it so hard for you?”

 

Wilson looked shocked. “I’m not attracted to you. Where on earth did you get that crazy idea from? I know you’re convinced that the entire solar system revolves around your genius, but it doesn’t. It simply doesn’t.”

_Damn it, Wilson! Have some originality! Say something different! Anything!_

“I don’t think the entire solar system revolves around my genius. But I do know that you are attracted to me. And you would have sex with me. Easily.”

 

“That’s-“ Wilson shook his head. “Right… so for the past ten years, you’ve been secretly crushing on your best friend. Despite going through countless women… and showing _no sign whatsoever_ of being in any way interested in men.”

 

“Oh knock it off! Clearly, we’re attracted to each other, so let’s go back to the hotel room. Screw like bunnies.”

 

Another look passed over his friend’s face, not exactly anger…

 

“Why is it hurting you to hear this?” House asked, irritation overcoming any bewilderment.

 

“You’re an asshole.” Wilson stood up.

 

“Jimmy…” House began.

 

“Fuck off!” Wilson snapped, hurrying away from him.

 

  _And here we go again…_

 

By ignoring the pain stabbing into his leg, he managed to catch up with Wilson just outside the café, on the street.

 

“In what particular direction should I ‘fuck off’ in?”

 

Wilson whirled around, eyes blazing.

 

“Do you remember why I got you this gig to begin with? I’m quite certain you aren’t suffering any neurological trauma but I’ll refresh your memory anyway. The hospital has not exactly been friendly with you, after you rammed a car into a restaurant!”

 

A few people on the street turned to watch the shouting man.

 

“Yes, very interesting, isn’t it? Go away!” House yelled at them.

 

“I liked Cuddy. Really liked her.” Wilson lowered his voice. “And I honestly thought she’d be good for you. I thought, great, finally, House will be happy. But no, you had to go and screw that one up as well. And now, you’ve decided to move on… with me? Do you even see how _insulting_ that is?”

 

House felt a little taken aback.  _Well, there’s a new one, he’s never said before._

 

“Yes, because that’s how I view our friendship. I’d be willing to risk losing my best friend, just for one afternoon of hot sex.”

 

Wilson sighed, started to pinch and rub the bridge of his nose. “To be honest, I don’t know what you want.”

 

“No, you don’t know what _you_ want.” House risked reaching out and touching his arm. Wilson didn’t flinch away. “It’s true. Cuddy was a brilliant, beautiful, funny, warm woman.” He paused. “Ultimately, she didn’t deserve me. She always deserved better.”

 

And then the revelation hit him.  He felt as though Wilson had slammed his fist into his gut.

 

“And so do you.”

 

Wilson took his hand from his face and looked at House. Looking into dark eyes of his best friend, House felt guilt dig its claws into his stomach, tearing through the peritoneal fluid to the tender lining beneath. He had been manipulating the only person who had constantly been there for him, the one he loved more than anything, to engage in tawdry sex. Sure, great sex, House told himself, but the fact was, he paid no attention to Wilson’s feelings, because, from his side, there wasn’t going to be any outcomes The next day, Wilson would just forget, once more. From that respect, he hadn’t treated his best friend any differently from the occasional prostitute that he would kick out, once the main act was done.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

This time, House walked away. Wilson didn’t follow him.

 

###

 

House spent the rest of the night wandering, his mind circling with thoughts that simply didn’t have any answers. Even his brilliant brain couldn’t work out the intricate web that was his and Wilson’s relationship. At one point, he had sat down to see a movie. Some new blockbuster with Tom Cruise. It was ridiculous enough to entertain his mind for an hour and a half.

 

When he arrived back at the hotel, Wilson was already in the bed, pretending to be asleep. House didn’t try to wake him.

 

###

 

Day 1

 

House awoke with a jolt, looking around the room with an odd feeling familiarity. To his left, the rustle of sheets signaled Wilson waking.  The loud clang of an alarm clock picked up then hastily dropped, then followed. His friend grumbled an expletive.

“You’re awake?” The sound of Wilson hastily unzipping his case reached House’s tympanics. “Why didn’t you wake me? We’re going to be late!” More rustling sounded, as Wilson rummaged through his own clothes.

 

“Oh, don’t mind me! You’re only the head speaker at a lecture planned six months in advance!”Wilson let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, I, for one plan on going. I’m sure that watching an empty stage for half an hour will make for one exhilarating time.”

 

He could feel the dark eyes lingering on his back a moment, before the bathroom door slammed. House rolled over, grabbing his vicodin bottle off the nightstand between the two beds. He flicked the lid off and gulped down two pills, frowned, then gulped down two more.

 

_Better._

 

The shower turned on in the other room with a gentle hiss. The alarm clock still flashed 1.14, the time it had evidentially shorted out at, the night before. House watched it flick over to 1.20. A fully dressed Wilson stepped out of the bathroom, tie in hand. He ventured over to the wide mirror overlooking the beds and looped the attire around his neck, under the shirt collar. The lessened throb of his vastus medialis muscle allowed House to sit up.

 

Regardless of the sensation that he’d been in this circumstance before (which was merely of passing interest to him anyway, considering it was simply a misfiring of his brain), he had to admit, Wilson looked particularly pretty that day. Not Chase hair-model pretty…more oncologist doctor pretty… if there was a category as such, which House decided there really should be such a category, in the annals of prettydom.

 

“Red tie today. Brings out the colour of those gorgeous brown eyes. Tell me, Jimmy, are you trying to look pretty for someone?”

 

“Hm… well, considering that you are the only person I currently know in this town…”

 

“Well, then I can only extrapolate from that, that you are trying to look pretty for me.”

 

 “Halleluiah! He finally notices.” Wilson finished fixing his tie and turned to face him. “Well, if you do decide to go to the university to do the lecture, in the clothes you wore to bed the night before, I can say it will make quite the impression.”

 

“Interesting phenomenon… de ja vue, which is what I’m having, very strongly, at the moment, by the way…” He began.

 

“If we leave now I can at least get my morning coffee and not murder you before we even reach the university!”

 

House realized that it was probably the wrong moment to fantasize about screwing Wilson senselessly but he didn’t care. For whatever reason, he was feeling rather sexually stimulated, that morning.

 

“Although more interesting is sexual attraction. The reticular activation system is activated in the brain, releasing serotonin, dopamine and epinephrine. The sympathetic nervous system kicks in. The heart rate rises, the pupils dilate, the body is flooded with feel good chemicals.”

 

A slightly puzzled, still bemused, more irritated look past over Wilson’s usually genial face.  “Is this going to be your speech? Well, _interesting_ change from the one you were _told_ to do, about advancements in theoretical medicine.”

 

“That ol’ RAS kicked in really good, the first you I saw those pretty puppy dog eyes.” House said, grinning.

 

Wilson stepped to the edge of the bed, threw House’s case on top and started unzipping it.  He flung it open, pulling out a bunch of clothes, then threw a pair of boxers, two shirts, three socks and two pairs of pants at his friend.

 

 “I really think I need a coffee. Get dressed. I’ll see you at the conference.”

 

Tbc…

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who are reading, commenting, sending kudos. Next chapter will be the final one. Enjoy! :)

“And so I introduce Doctor Gregory House.”

 

Polite applause rang through auditorium. House smiled at the rather immodestly dressed lecturer and stepped up to the lectern, his cane tapping on the wooden floorboards. He looked about the very young looking students in attendance and spied one that looked rather out of place. Wilson sat in the front row, between a bored looking gothic boy, and a pretty brunette, who tapped on her mobile phone with such fanaticism, it was as though stopping would cause her to go into cardiac arrest.

 

House cleared his throat and smiled at all of the not-particularly eager faces before him. He still could not shake the feeling of de ja vu he’d had all morning.

 

_Just a little blip in the neuron processing of the brain. You’ll be fine._

 

“I’m here to fill your already overstuffed little minds with garbage about the advancement of medical procedures, in the past few years.” House reached into his pocket and took out a couple of vicodin, threw them in the air and swallowed them. In the front row, Wilson looked up at him, expectantly.

 

The lyrics of a song started suddenly circling in his mind, like a record player needle skipping on the chorus of the song.

 

_Too good to be true_

_Can’t take my eyes off you._

_Too good_

_Too good to be true._

_Can’t take._

 

“So yes…”

_Too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off you._

 

“The lecture….” He blinked.

 

 _Da da da da da dada da_.

 

The texting girl had stopped and was now staring at him intently.

 

“Ah…”

 

_Da da da da da dada da._

_Oh shut up!_ Still, the song went round and round.

 

Now Wilson's expression had changed to concern.

 

“Right…”

 

###

“You’re almost a little _too_ happy about giving the lecture. Makes me a little suspicious.” Wilson frowned.

 

“Really?”

 

_Such the buzz kill!_

 

“Well, it’s never too late to appreciate the wonder that is the developing student mind.”

 

No, he couldn’t say that with any level of honesty.

 

“Do you have a share in this bistro or something?” Wilson asked, watching House drain the rest of his glass.

 

“No, my share is in ‘Pugg Mahones’ across the road. My money is always on the bar that has a secretly crude name. Another whiskey.”

 

Waiter Tony’s face was blank, as he nodded, though House could read slight disgust beneath the stoic expression.

 

“Make it two!” He called after Waiter Tony’s fleeing back.

 

“You know, the speech wasn’t that good. You really don’t need to celebrate this hard.” Wilson paused. “By the way, you didn’t need to order two. I’m not going to be drinking any more.”

 

“The second one is for me.”

 

“Of course it is.”

 

House regarded him a moment, suddenly feeling brave.

 

“Let’s do something right now. Let’s pretend that tomorrow isn’t going to happen.”

 

“What are you-?”

 

“Right now, let’s pretend that tomorrow isn’t happening. We can say what we want to each other and tomorrow; it will be like we never said it. Fresh slate.”

 

Beat. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

 

“Go on, say what ever you’ve always wanted to say to me. I can handle it.”

 

“You’re drunk.”

 

“Which means I probably won’t remember tomorrow.”

 

For a moment, Wilson sized him up. “Fine, do you want me to say what I really think of you? I love you, Greg. But you can be absolutely the most frustrating person to be around! Your insensitivity at times is absolutely astonishing! You always pigheadedly do whatever you want, even at the extent of other people. At times, you’re pretty much impossible to like. I put up with it, because I see the wall for what it is… but it still doesn’t make it unbearable at times.”

 

House was silent a few moments, absorbing the rant. “Well, that wasn’t exactly what I was expecting….”

 

“You asked.” Wilson shrugged.

 

“And you certainly answered.”

 

Wilson took a deep breath, as though preparing himself.

 

“Go on. Your go. Give me your best shot.”

 

_I am a little bit attracted to men. On a Kinsey scale, I’d say I sit around a three or four. I also had a homosexual experience in college. I just never told you because it was more fun to watch you squirm when I teased you about our own experiences-_

 

“Well? I’m waiting.”

 

_I also am attracted to you. Always have been._

 

House felt something lift. It was remarkably easy to admit to himself. But then, perhaps he’d always known it. He simply hadn’t thought it out loud, in his own mind.

 

“Well?”

 

“I’ll get the bill.”

 

“Well, that’s a first. And also… that’s not fair. You still haven’t told me what you think of me.” Wilson complained.

 

House simply smiled enigmatically. “It’s a beautiful day. Let’s go outside.”

 

###

 

The quaint tinkle of a bell above the door signaled the two men's entrance into the store. House instantly moved to peruse the shelves of various herbs, soaps, incense, books and cards, his mouth twisted in a half-smirk/half frown. The sickening scent of incense, permeating the entire store, threatened to have him rush back out, to be sick. Sitting on one particular shelf, amongst the angel, and tarot cards were “fairy” cards. Wilson picked them up with the delicacy of a person handling toxic waste.

 

“Why are we here again?”

 

House wasn’t sure. He had simply gone past the store and had the overwhelming urge to enter.

 

“Can I help you?” A pretty, fortyish woman came out from a beaded curtain behind the front counter.

 

“Fairy cards?” House asked.

 

“Would you like to buy them?”

 

“Would I like to buy them? No. I’m more intrigued as to why one would want to buy cards that illicit help from beings that don’t exist.” He paused. “You do _realise_ they don’t exist, right?”

 

The woman surprised him by laughing, as she took the cards from Wilson’s hands. “If it gives people peace to believe in fairies, who am I to judge them?”

 

“Also, you can make good money off fleecing them.” Wilson said.

 

Instantly, the humour went from the dark eyes. “Can I help you with anything?”

 

“I’m not sure… I saw the words psychic healer out the front. Alice something.” House said, ignoring the irritated fidgeting from Wilson beside him.

 

The woman’s eyes flicked down to his cane then up again.

 

“That’s my mother. Fifty dollars for half an hour.”

 

“What’s she going to do? Put a spell on him?” Wilson didn’t bother to hide his sarcasm.

 

“She’s a very established healer and psychic-“

 

“Very good cold reader, in other words-“ Wilson said.

 

“I really don’t have the time today to listen to skeptics so-“

 

House took out his wallet, fished around for money and pulled out a fifty-dollar note, shoving it in her hand.

 

“Give me a few minutes.” She looked distinctly disgruntled.

 

“Honestly, House. Surely you don’t believe in all this? I’m concerned that we will have to go to the hospital and get a MRI done of your brain!” Wilson sharply whispered.

 

“This way.” The woman had now reappeared behind the front counter.

 

House allowed himself to be lead behind the beaded curtain and down a short corridor, then through a door to the side. The corresponding, strangely familiar room consisted of a small simple wooden table, with two chairs on either side. A large painting of a winding path sat on one wall, the other was blank, the paint a garish yellow. Seated behind the table was a short, wiry haired elderly lady, with a gentle smile.

 

“Come, sit down. I’m Alice. We’ve met before?”

 

House shook his head.

 

“I’m certain of it…”

_You’re going to have to do way better than that, lady._

 

She glanced down at his cane.

 

“You never forgave Stacy for your leg. But she did what she had to. It’s time to let it go.”

 

House felt the irritation depart, replaced by a fearful bewilderment that knotted his stomach.

 

“How did you know about Stacy?” He all but whispered.

 

“A year or so from now. Jimmy will get sick. Very sick. You will both quit your jobs. You will finally get to be together. Properly. And you will come here. I’ll give him the chance no other could.”

 

“What is this?” House snapped. “Psychological bullshit. If this is meant to be fifty dollars worth of so called ‘psychic ability’ then you’ll have to try a hell of a lot harder, lady!”

 

The woman did not seem the least fazed by his outburst. Her calm smile notched his irritation up another rung.

 

_All just nonsense. Making up crap that can later only conveniently be denied or confirmed, when I’m far away from her._

 

“It’s hard for you but just… be honest with him. Tell him you love him. You won’t be disappointed by his answer. I guarantee it.”

 

“I need to… “ I need to go. He stood then turned, opening his mouth to say something, then thought the better of it.

 

“Is everything-?” The daughter asked, as he rushed out of the beaded curtain past her.

 

“Fine… everything is fine… Jimmy…” He signaled, all but slamming into the door, on his way out.

 

###

 

“So you went to prove that she _wasn’t_ psychic?” Wilson shook his head, as he loosened his tie, throwing it over his case. “I’m sorry, but those people, the way they take advantage of other’s naiveté-“

 

“Jimmy shut up! I need to talk to you!”

 

Wilson frowned but at least shut his mouth.

 

House sighed. _He's going to find out sooner or later. You might as well be the one._ “I’ve fallen in love with you. Now, I know you’re not going to believe me.” He said, quickly, watching the suspicion rushing over his friend’s face. “You’re going to think this is some kind of trick, or game. The truth is, it isn’t. I think…I have been feeling this for a very long time. I’ve just been too stupid to allow myself to admit it.”

 

The suspicion was swiftly replaced by a myriad of emotions. House felt his heart sink in his stomach. There was surprise there, anger, hurt, betrayal…. Not the lust, joy and affection he’d been expecting. Wilson shook his head, turned on his heel and walked out, slamming the door behind himself.

 

House simply stared at the door, telling himself that he wasn’t too surprised at that reaction. After all, this wasn’t something one said every day to one’s best friend.

 

He popped some vicodin, then limped over to the bed, lying down on top. Perhaps he could-

 

The door slammed open so hard it would probably leave a dent in the wall opposite. It then shut again.

 

“You stupid fucking idiot!” Wilson shouted, stalking towards him.

 

House sat up.

 

“Damn you, house! Damn you, you fucking…!”

 

“Tell me what you really-“ House began, sarcastically.

 

And then suddenly Wilson was on the bed, Wilson had his hand around House’s neck. Wilson was bringing House’s head towards his. Wilson was biting at House’s lips, desperately tearing at his clothes.

 

“You’re a fucking idiot!” Wilson said, panting.

 

If it meant that Wilson was going to keep doing what he was doing, House wasn’t going to disagree.

 

 

###

Wilson came first, crying out and spasming in House’s hand, as he pulsated against House’s cock. This became too much. He thrust forward a few more times, crying out himself, as he came, deep inside the willing body.

 

Exhausted, his collapsed on top of his friend. For a few minutes, the two attempted to get their collective breaths back.

 

“That was… something…” Wilson remarked, as House gently pulled out. “You wore me out.”

 

House moved to the side, as Wilson rolled over onto his own side. Both faced each other.  A slight smile played on Wilson’s face.

 

“Well, hopefully, when we get our strength back, I can wear you out again.” House said.

 

“Only next time, I get to top.” Wilson grinned.

 

Tbc…


End file.
